


A Singer, A Phantom, A Forgotten Love

by Narvinya



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narvinya/pseuds/Narvinya
Summary: Phantom of the Opera AU. When Arthur Kirkland, a young, talented singer rise as an opera star, it was the beginning of chaos in the opera house. A tale of an ill-fated singer and the mysterious phantom that lurks in the shadow. Just what is the relationship between Arthur and the phantom? Can Arthur make the right decision without harming others? FrUK/USUK Love Triangle





	1. Prologue

Paris, 1925

It was a cool and clear evening in the city of Paris. Citizen filed through the street with their own business. Workers of the middle-class walked down the path to their home, some decided to stop by somewhere for dinner while some decided to take a break in a bar with some friends. Shopkeepers were preparing to close their shop and called it a day.

Even though dusk was already at bay in the city, the streets were as lively and busy as ever. Near to the city centre stood the majestic building which people had come to know it as the famous Paris Opera House. The building’s design was just simply exquisite and artistic, decorated with a fountain and multiple stone statues only enhanced its appearance. People of the upper class society arrived the place in horse carriages, dressing glamorously just for the sake of tonight’s event. One-by-one, they entered the doors into the theatre. A poster was just next to the entrance, featuring a beautiful young woman in her twenties and the theme of tonight’s play.

From his carriage, Francis Bonnefoy smiled at the sight of the beautiful city coming into life as night fell. Paris has always been his favourite place, its art, its culture and everything that makes it beautiful. The carriage came to a stop in front of the opera house. He paid the driver before getting out of the carriage, thanking the chauffeur for helping him opened the door. He had a quick glimpse of the building before him. Even though there was a fire disaster years ago, most of the building was still intact and unharmed. Francis grinned in satisfaction that the managers make full use of the money he sponsored on maintaining the opera house well before he joined the crowd and entered the theatre.

In his office, Matthew Jones was busy calculating and recording the tickets they had sold for tonight. Once he was done with his work, he wiped the sweat on his brows before leaving his office to meet his brother. The other manager, Alfred Jones was standing near the entrance of the theatre greeting the audiences.

“There’s going to be a lot of people tonight.” Matthew said, standing next to his brother. “Like as much as two thousands.”

“We have been on a tight budget recently.” Alfred said. “Let’s hope that this new production will boost our income this year.”

“Lady Hedervary is a great singer. I’m sure we will have a good catch tonight.” Matthew winked. His violet eyes scanned the crowd before he caught sight of Francis. “Oh hey, there’s Monsieur Bonnefoy.” He said while giving a wave.

Francis returned back with a wave as he made his way to the brothers. “Bonjour, mes amies, it has been a while since we last saw each other.”

“Francis,” Alfred smiled, “I have not seen you for two years. How have you been?”

“I have been busy with my business trip, but that does not mean I will stop my financing the opera house for great production.” Francis grinned.

“Thank you for your patronage, monsieur Bonnefoy. We really appreciated it and I will make sure that we put this money of yours into good use.” Alfred said, giving Francis’ shoulder a pat. “Let’s go to our private seat to talk while waiting for the show to start.”

While the three headed to their private box, a little girl no more than 10 was running among the crowd trying to find a seat. But she was too short, to see around the crowded area, she hit onto Alfred’s and fell down. The trio saw this and quickly went to help her up.

“Oh hello little one,” Alfred greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see the opera show.” The girl said.

“You’re quite young to attend something like this.” Matthew commented.

“I admire Miss Hedervary.” The girl replied innocently. “She sings like an angel. I wish that someday I can be as good as she is.”

Francis smiled back at her in a friendly way. “You will be, one day.” He said. “As long as you practice, someday you will be a great singer.”

“Merci, monsieur.” The girl laughed before she left to her seat. Alfred, Matthew and Francis turned into the staffs’ corner and climbed a staircase which took them to their box just above the theatre. Alfred scanned across the theatre, beaming in satisfaction that many people had come for tonight’s occasion, this is just going to be great.

“Sings like an angel, just like the angel of music?” Francis quoted the words, his mind in deep thought.

“Something in your mind, Francis?” Matthew asked in concern.

Alfred went to sit next to Matthew as he said knowingly. “He must be thinking about three years ago.”

“You mean him, right?” Matthew said softly. “Haven’t you heard anything about him?”

Both Francis and Alfred shook their head in unison, obviously disappointed with the result. “No luck at all. But I believe we will meet eventually.” Alfred said.

Francis drew a long sigh. “It has been three years already.” He said.

Their thoughts were soon interrupted when the lights were dimmed, except for the chandelier that hung on the centre of the room being the only source of light. At the middle of the stage stood Elizaveta Hedervary, the lead singer of the night. With a strong voice, she sang along the music, capturing everyone’s breath at such melodious tune.

As the primadonna continued to sing for the rest of the performance, the managers and the patron were all lost in their thoughts, letting the song brought them back to the event that happened three years ago. Under the faint chandelier light, memories of the angel of music began to resurface, a story of love, pain, joy and heartbreak that led to a train of unfortunate incidents…


	2. The Singer: Mysterious Disappearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new singer rise into fame but mysteriously disappear amidst the crowd.

**1922, Paris**

The Paris Opera House was abuzz. Dancers, actors and singers were all busy rehearsing for tonight’s play. Staffs, stage crews and directors ran through everything and rechecking them to ensure that all was in place.

“To the left a bit.” One of the stage directors, Ludwig commanded. The workers did as what he asked. He watched as they placed the props at the designated location before nodding as an approval. He was about to move on to the next part when one of the actors suddenly clung onto him.

“Ve! Luddy, do you want to share my pasta with me?” The person asked with a jolly voice. Ludwig seemed to jump a bit before straightening himself. “Feliciano, I’m busy right now.” He said, causing the other man to whine.

“But Luddy…” Feliciano pouted.

Ludwig let out a sigh. “Feliciano, the rehearsing is still ongoing, and you can’t just came out halfway like that. We will have pasta together after all this is over.” At his words, Feliciano regained his spirits and he bounced back to stage where the rest are preparing for it.

“Gilbert, how did the work up there go?” Ludwig asked, directing above. “Are the lights functioning properly?”

“Ja.” A man with silver hair and red eyes appeared at the loft above the stage. “Everything’s set and running.”

“Good, the next thing is…” He was about to continue checking on the rest when someone interrupted him.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” Everyone in the box froze at the voice. They all recognized this voice, though it may sounded friendly, it could be also meaning that he is out causing ruckus.

Ludwig sighed before turning his attention to the man who just entered the room. “What is it, mister Braginski?”

“Did I interrupt something?” He asked, gripping the pipe on his hand. Seeing his innocent smile only made people shivered in discomfort, their manager had the tendency to violence without a proper reason. He once broke a man’s leg because the opera house almost went into bankrupt that he vented on him.

“No.” A man dared to say. A small Asian man with long black hair tied in a ponytail scoffed at him. “Or should I say, yes?”

“Oh, Yao-yao, you never bored me out, da?” The manager grinned, Yao just rolled his eyes at him as if saying ‘will you shut up?’ “What brings you here, by the way?” Yao pressed on, motioning the rest to continue their work.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot.” Ivan smiled as he snapped his fingers. Two men around the age of twenty entered the room. “As you all know I will be retiring soon, these will be your new managers for the future to come.”

Everyone in the room heaved out a sigh of relief. Nothing could be better than Ivan Braginski, the current manager of the opera house retirement. It could’ve saved so many lives and heart attacks from happening.

Ivan turned around to introduce the men with him. “This is Alfred F. Jones and Matthew W. Jones. They will be running the opera house from now on.” He directed at two bespectacled men with blonde hair and identical look. One of the men who had sun-kissed blonde hair with a cowlick and sky blue eyes beamed a charming smile that caused some of the girls to swoon. He took it as his cue to speak, “Of course, from now on, I, Alfred Frederick Jones will take over this opera house and support all its production. I’m gonna make it be the most famous place for music in the whole world.” His brother, whose hair and eye colour were a bit duller in shades just smiled while nodding to the crowd.

Ivan smiled and turned to Yao, who did not flinch at his creepy aura. “This is Yao. He has been in the opera house for more than twenty years. He will show you around the people and the opera house so that you will get to know better of them.”

Yao bowed before the new managers before he straightened himself. “I’m Yao Wang, and I’m in charge of taking care the actors, singers and dancers. Sometimes, I also instruct dance movement.” He began leading them through the stage, Ivan treading behind as he oversee the rehearsing progress. “As you can see, we are now rehearsing for tonight’s play as a farewell ceremony for Mister Braginski.”

Yao directed them to where the cast were preparing to be on stage. They saw a beautiful young lady sitting at a corner fanning herself. She had unnaturally pale skin, long chestnut brown hair tied into a wild bun and viridian green eyes. Next to her sat a bespectacled man with dark brown hair with an aristocratic look, he was seen handing her a glass of water to drink. “That was Lady Elizaveta Hedervary, she is our lead singer.” Yao introduced, “The man next to her is her fiancé, also known as the famous pianist, Roderich Edelstein.”

They continued deeper into the backstage where they saw a group of young dancers and actors were busy practicing or putting up props for the play. Alfred dared to let his eyes flirted across the young dancing ladies and men, until his eyes landed on someone particularly familiar person.

“That is my son, Kiku.” Yao said, directing at a petite black-haired young man who waltzed around gracefully, but the person that had caught Alfred’s eyes was even better than Kiku. “That young man over there is Arthur Kirkland.”

“Kirkland?” Matthew perked up at the name. “You don’t mean the famous musician?”

“Arthur was his child.” Yao answered. “He came to the opera house as one of our dancer and actor when he was eighteen. Though I treated him as my own son, he has a promising talent like that of his father.”

Alfred fell into a trance as he watched Arthur twirled and spun gracefully on his feet without tripping. Beautiful, Alfred marvelled at Arthur’s graceful movement like a swan and light-footing like a butterfly.

* * *

 

Ludwig clapped his hands to signal that they began with the play. “Miss Hedervary, are you done yet?” He asked. With a nod, Elizaveta stood up and strode to the stage to begin her role as the lead singer. The conductor, Feliciano directed the band to begin the music which she would be singing.

Elizaveta sang quite well, her voice smooth and well in-sync with the notes, but just as the melody was about to reach the highest point, her throat could not take the pressure and she ended up in a fit of coughs. Roderich immediately went to her side rubbing her back soothingly.

“Miss Hedervary, it was the third time we try this and you still can’t get through it.” Ludwig just shook his head in disappointment. “You usually do better than this.”

“Ve, Ludwig, she was sick. You shouldn’t pressure her too much.” Feliciano piped in, not wanting Ludwig to keep ramble on.

“I don’t think… I can make it tonight…” Elizaveta choked, her voice sore from singing and coughing. “I try, but I really can’t.”

“But…” Ludwig was about to say something but Roderich shot a glare at him. “I’m afraid Eliza isn’t in her top form today and she needed some rest. She won’t be able to perform tonight.” Everyone in the opera house fell into desperation as the lead singer decided to quit for tonight. Roderich frowned tightly, finding it hard. “I’m sorry…”

“But what are we gonna do?” Alfred yelled from afar. “Without the lead singer, the play won’t be a success without their star and we will have to refund the tickets to the audience.”

“We can’t let that happen, da?” The creepiness began to double and everyone could feel the room temperature dropped drastically and they shivered. “It is not easy having all these done and now that you want to cancel it?” Elizaveta could felt a pair of eyes sizing up at her and her knees somewhat became weak under those purple glare.

“It’s not that she wanted to…” Matthew said, but Ivan did not hear him. Yao stood aside, his face as calm as ever as he was weighing the situation. The rest sank into desperation.

“I-If… If there’s something I dare to say…” Elizaveta said weakly. “I have a suggestion.” All eyes directed at her, and she felt her fear dissipated a little. “I would like to suggest Arthur Kirkland as my replacement for the time being until I’m recover.”

At her suggestion, everyone was shocked and all the eyes soon shifted to Arthur. Arthur’s emerald green eyes could only widened in shock when Elizaveta recommended him to take her place, as the lead singer.

“Very funny joke, Hedervary.” Ivan mocked. “Though I would say, he has a very pretty face.” Alfred sent a glare at Ivan as if he was going to snatch away his treasure.

“I believe in him.” Elizaveta stood to her ground. “He has been quite a good singer and even takes singing lesson.”

“B-But… I can’t…” Arthur stuttered.

“A dancer, leading the play?” Ludwig quirked his eyebrow questionably.

“Why not give him a try?” Alfred said. His heart leaped in joy that someone had finally noticed Arthur’s talent.

“Well, better give it a shot than having to refund.” Feliciano commented. He signalled the orchestra to play the melody. Arthur took a deep breath before he began to sing. Unlike Elizaveta, his voice seemed to fuse together along with the melody. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Arthur in amazement, Elizaveta, Yao and Alfred were smiling brightly, Ivan and Matthew were relief by the fact that they won’t have to refund the tickets.

* * *

 

The night was a success. Arthur proved to be a prima donna of splendour and radiance. Dressed in a white gown, his voice seemed to travel to all corners that infected the audience. He sang of the snow, the Northern Lights, and the beautiful yet lonely adventure. His voice brought them to the vast sea of endless journey and a meadow filled with beautiful blooming flowers. The house went into uproar that the audience began cheering and clapping.

Arthur sang on, along with the music, and finally hitting the last note beautifully on a high pitch. The toll seemed to have taken on Arthur as soon as he finished his last note, he fainted before the audience. The staff ended up carrying him to the prima donna’s dressing room.

As Arthur was carried away, Alfred could only watched from above, hoping that Arthur will be alright. Matthew patted his shoulder to get his attention, telling him that he must greet the audience while took control of the situation.

Alfred and Matthew hurried to Arthur’s dressing room where the crowds were gathering, holding flowers and eager to meet the new star. “It looks like we got more than we hope for.” Ivan commented.

“Told ‘cha.” Alfred said, lightly punching his shoulder. “It is a fortune.”

“And what would you do now?” Ivan asked.

Alfred grinned, “Well, if you all excuse me, I need some private moment with Kirkland.” He said, taking a bouquet of roses from one of the crowd before heading to the door of the dressing room. But before he could knock or barge into the room, the door swung open and a man stepped out from the room. Alfred managed to regain his footing from hitting onto the man.

Wait, a man? What is he doing in Arthur’s room?

“Excusez-moi?” The man standing before him had shoulder-length blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes and a little stubble on his chin. His smile was a little of a flirt and charming that could made the ladies fell to their knees.

“Who are you?” Alfred asked, more like he was demanding an answer. He could feel anger rising in his chest. “And what are you doing here?”

The man ran a hand through his hair before saying. “My name is Francis von Bonnefoy, patron of the opera house. And I just came to pay Mademoiselle Angleterre a visit.”

“How dare you just enter like that?!”

“He fainted, I must see him to make sure he is alright, rien d'autre?” Francis said, closing the door. “He is my friend, I have the right to be concern of him.”

Friend… he say. No, it was more than that.

“No one but me is allowed to get close to Arthur.” Alfred spat. “You better stayed away from him or I won’t let you go alive.”

Francis frowned. “My, what kind of a directeur you are…” A grin then broke out from his lips. “Looks like we are interested in one thing common, non? We will have to fight and see who will win Arthur’s hand.”

“Do it.” Alfred almost yelled it out. “Arthur loved me more than anyone else.”

The two were to continue their argument but Yao suddenly appeared. He noted the crowds that were gathering outside Arthur’s room and Alfred and Francis were bickering just by the door. Shaking his head, he demanded everyone to stop and asked the crowd to leave Arthur to rest.

“If you two want to argue, please find somewhere else but here.” Yao sent them a glare. “Arthur was stressed enough with today’s matters and he is not seeing anyone tonight.” He then sent them away from the dressing room. Alfred saw Francis smirked under his lips, he probably thought himself victorious for being able to see Arthur under Yao’s nose. He was not having it, he won’t let Francis had Arthur, Arthur belonged to him.

Alfred walked away from the group as they split. Once the coast was clear, he snuck behind the props that were placed outside the dressing room. Making sure that no one was around, he walked up to the door and gently knocked on it. But there was no reply, Arthur probably was still laying on bed resting. He gently turned the door knob and crept into the room.

The room was dark, the only light source were the few candles in the room. The extravagant room was filled with roses and flowers given by the crowds. Alfred looked around the room, but it was void of human presence.

There’s no way Arthur left the room, could he? No. He had been standing by the door with Francis all the time and it was not even five minutes when Yao forced him to leave. Also, he was sure that no one entered or exited the room other than Francis. Alfred stood in the middle of the room, stunned. There was a breeze, which blew off the candles and he shivered as chill crept up his spine. Weird, is there something wrong? Knowing that he won’t find Arthur in the room, he left the room, unknown that someone was watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owned nothing, Hetalia, POTO and the characters belong to their respective owner.  
> In case you all wonder about what happen in the gala. In the original story, Christine actually fainted after singing. People ended up crowding outside her room but Raoul was the one who stopped them, so hope you like this part.  
> And you all would wonder, who is the Phantom? The truth is, I haven’t decide who should be the phantom. I was just too soft to make an antagonist. But for now, the phantom’s identity will be kept hidden in the shadow. When the right time comes, his true face will reveal. So, which character do you wish would be the phantom? Do read and review, I appreciate it so much.


	3. The Phantom: Beneath the Opera House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the opera house, rumour has it that a mysterious person was living inside haunting its occupants...

While Paris Opera House was well known for its charm and beauty, there was always a dark side hidden underneath those values.

It started out as a rumour, but every rumour was born or originated from a certain truth that was passed down by people. As it spread, however, the truth began to blur and faded into the background while the rumour passed on like wild fire.

It all began when strange things started happening in the opera house. Some chorus girls said they saw a shadow in their dressing room, some staff and crew will said some of the props went missing, some people said they would heard someone singing or playing the piano when there should be no one in the theatre. Slowly, the tale began to surface regarding the presence of that ‘someone’ who resided in the opera house, the opera ghost.

The identity of this ghost remained unknown to them. From how things looked like, it was possible that he was once a renowned artist that died in the opera house. The cause was not clear, some said he died on stage while some believed that he was murdered. But one thing people knew was that he had taken residence in Box 5 of the opera house. The managers needed to ask for his permission in order to use Box 5 and paid him regularly in hope it will appease him.

There were also different account regarding the ghost’s appearance. Gilbert, who liked to scare the girl would told them that he caught sight of the ghost’s appearance. His account of the ghost’s appearance was that of a full scale skeletal body with blood red eyes and blood flowing out of it. He also mentioned that the ghost can be seen wandering in Box 5 near midnight, his skeletal body burning in fire. Though Yao had tried drummed in Gilbert’s ears, warning him not to say all these things in front of people, but that man was as daring as death he was.

Some of the staffs and crews had also reported seeing a green light floating in the corridors of the dressing room and dance foyer. They believed it was also the ghost’s doing. Popular believed it to be ‘the man with death head’. Coming into eye contact with it was not a good thing, they would say. As those who looked into the death’s eyes will got shocked that they died, those who survived will be plagued with insanity and they believed that this had befallen on the retired manager.

Another popular belief was also mentioned that the opera ghost has shapeshifting ability because he was once an actor who can played any role without losing the skills. In night time, he will transform into bats, rats, spider or even wolf to spy and prey on people. They believed that he will lure young ladies into his lair where they will ended up being slaughtered and disembodied, so that the ghost could use their bodies to make a perfect body host for him.

Although the tale varies, one thing was certain regarding the ghost. If someone stands in his way or refuse to obey his orders, there’s a painful price to pay. And those with too much of a curiosity will end up being killed in the ghost’s hand. After all, corpse won’t talk, probably the best way to keep everything about the ghost’s identity intact.

* * *

 

Night time fell in the opera house, the audiences had left and everyone prepared to retire for the night. Alfred returned back to his office in a frustrated mood. He almost got Arthur into his hand. Yet, that new patron, Francis, had to stand in their way.

“Al, are you alright?” Matthew asked in concern.

“No, I’m not.”

“Is it about Arthur?”

“Of course, that Francis guy is getting too close to him. He’s too pervert to be close to Arthur.”

Matthew let out a sigh. “Getting angry about it won’t solve the problem.” He said, sorting out the documents on the tables. “Rather than frustrating over this, why don’t you give me a hand here?”

“Whatever.” Alfred grunted and he walked next to his brother and began looking through the letters.

Yao soon entered the office, a letter in his hand. “I have a letter for you, monsieur.” Matthew accepted the letter from him, thanking him in the process. He observed the seal for a moment. The hardened wax seemed to have the image of a dragon… No, is that a lion or a horse? On another glance, it looked like an eagle head.

“Who actually sent such letters?” Alfred said, squinting at the seal.

Yao bowed a bit before answering. “I forgot to inform you all during the rehearsal. Here in the opera house, we have another person who secretly managed the opera house.”

“You’re kidding me right?” Alfred spat. “Then what are we the managers if this somebody took charge on managing the opera house?”

“I’m serious, guys.” Yao said, his tone was grave serious. “This person, or whom we had come to know as the opera ghost, won’t take people lightly if they disobeyed his orders.”

“Ghost? A-And his orders…” Matthew gasped. “Y-You don’t mean…”

“He welcomes you two to the opera house.” Yao continued. “He also stated that unless permission is provided, you are not allowed to use Box 5 for any purpose.”

“What kind of person is this? Thinking he could keep things all to himself?!” He snatched the letter from Matthew’s hand and scanned through the letter.

_Dear managers,_

_Good evening, as your loyal servant, I humbly welcomed you to the opera house. As per agreement, Box 5 is reserved for my own usage unless instruction allowed you to do so._   
_It is also a great pleasure seeing the new singer singing for the night. His name is Arthur Kirkland, did I heard it right? He brings a new sensation to the show. I hope you will use him for future productions._

_Kind regards,_   
_Opera Ghost_

“What kind of person is he? He seemed to tick me off.” Alfred commented. While the letter was written in a polite manner, he can sensed something hidden behind those words, like a hidden knife waiting to attack.

“While he may not ask for anything, it is wise that you pay him some reasonable amount of money every month.” Yao advised.

“We have to pay him?” Matthew asked in shock.

“Mister Braginski paid as much as five hundred francs every month. Surely you can afford something like that, won’t you?” Yao said, whether it was a mocking or an advice, they just can’t tell. “You have to seal the money in a letter and leave it at Box 5, he will retrieve it by himself.”

“Who did he think he was? Our boss?” Alfred said in frustration. “This gotta be a joke. I have no time to play with his tricks.”

Yao scowled at Alfred’s words. “If I were you, I would’ve obeyed his words. His requests were not hard to fulfil, weren’t they?” He turned and prepared to leave. But before he opened the door, he stopped again. “Don’t say that I didn’t warn you, but the ghost will be out causing trouble if you don’t listened to his orders.” He reminded them before he left.

“Aren’t you going to listen to him?” Matthew asked.

“Why should I listen to him? There is no such things as ghost. This thing is definitely a trick!” Matthew sighed, looks like his brother just got angrier.

Alfred looked at the letter written by the so called ghost. He decided to just dismiss it as a prank when he noticed there was something he missed. At the end of the letter, was a passage written in red.

_Alfred F. Jones,_

_While I understand that you had feelings for Arthur Kirkland, but please refrain from getting close to him. You had no right to be close to him as he already belongs to me._

_Opera Ghost_

What the hell was that?! What relation does this ‘ghost’ has with his Arthur?! And who said obeying his order is an easy task?!

* * *

 

In the Bonnefoy’s residence in Paris, Francis was about to retire to bed and called it a day. To be honest, he never expected that he will be meeting Arthur in the opera house. What surprised him even more was that Arthur was chosen as the new lead singer and his singing skills had captured his heart.

“Just like back then…” Francis mumbled to himself with a faint smile. “Music is just perfect for him.”

His mind went back to the moment when he visited Arthur privately in his dressing room after the show. Arthur sang so well that he ended up fainting. It worried him a bit, it was Arthur’s first time after all. The moment when he entered the room, Arthur got shock for a while before turning into that of a shy expression. He didn’t intended to do anything stupid of course, since it was their first meeting after years. Arthur had grown from a young lad into a handsome and attractive young man and Francis found himself instantly attracted to him. During that brief meeting, the two of them talk about their past and about their current lives. Arthur stated that things had been quite busy in the opera house, but he somehow managed it. He advised Arthur on taking care of himself and not to overwork himself.

And then, the new manager of the opera house came into his mind, he frowned instantly. It looks like this young man, Alfred, was interested in his Arthur too. Francis wasn’t taking this lightly, he was determined to win Arthur’s hand. After all, he did said that he will marry him years ago, there’s no way he would broke those words.

“Sir, there’s a letter for you.” A maid knocked on the door before opening it and handed him a letter. Francis accepted it and thanking the lady in the process. Who could’ve sent a letter this late? His eyes landed on the wax that had the image of a serpent, or is it an eagle’s head? And the body was like that of a horse, but then again it looked like a lion.

_Merde._

* * *

 

Morning rose in the opera house and the residents were prepared to start anew for the day. Arthur woke up from his bed, cleaned and dressed himself. He took note of the flowers that were placed all over the room, mentally reminding himself to clean them up later. He was about to leave the room for breakfast when a voice called out for him.

“Mornin’ my dear, I hope you had a good rest.” The voice said, his voice echoed throughout the room.

Arthur stopped in his tracks, turning around to answer the voice. “I’m perfectly fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Do take good care of yourself.” The voice said. “And I had a little advice for you too.”

Arthur frowned, “What is it?” He had a bad feeling about it.

“It seemed like some people are interested in you. Two men to be exact, the patron and one of the managers.” Arthur shuddered, the ghost must be talking about Francis and Alfred. “Don’t get too close to them. Remember, you belong to me and only ME.” And that came out to be a warning more than an advice…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who should Arthur ended up with in the end? Alfred, Francis, or no one? Let me know what you guys thought in the comment section below. I also need to make my decision about the identity of this phantom. Hope you guys enjoy it.


	4. The Manager: Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alfred and Arthur's past were looked into and the relation in it

“ _Ohaiyogozaimasu_ , Arthur-san, how are you feeling today?” Kiku greeted Arthur the moment Arthur entered the dining hall.

“I’m fine, Kiku. Thank you for asking.” Arthur replied with a small smile, hoping to convince Kiku that he is alright.

“Yao-san and everyone was worried about you when you fainted on stage.” Kiku said.

“It’s really nothing.” Arthur assured. “It’s just that… I’m a little nervous yesterday night, since it’s my first time being the lead singer that I must’ve overworked myself.” He went to fetch his platter of food before setting down before Kiku.

“I’m really impressed, Arthur-san.” Kiku spoke up. “Nobody expected you to sing that well, you even surpassed Miss Elizaveta.”

“Is that so?” Arthur mumbled almost inaudibly. “I didn’t expect myself to be that good either.”

“You don’t have to be that modest.” Kiku said. “The managers are so happy with last night’s play, and the audience too. I wish I can be as good as you do.”

Arthur managed a faint smile as he sank into thought. It took him a while before he finally speak, “You know? When I first came to live in the opera house, I would sometimes find solace in playing the piano and singing to myself when nobody was in the theatre. That was when I started hearing this voice talking and singing to me.”

Kiku blinked. “You mean your tutor?”

“I come to think it as my tutor. I heard his voice whenever I went and in sleep he sang to me.”

“Isn’t it a bit creepy as if he was stalking you?” Kiku shivered.

“He isn’t stalking me.” Arthur said. “I always felt comforted whenever I heard his voice, as if he was soothing me.” His green eyes seemed to dull a little as he looked into a distance as if he saw something. Kiku followed his sight but all he could see was the opera garden from the window.

“Whoever this tutor of yours is, you must’ve a very strong connection with him.” Kiku said, though his eyes were a little uneasy. “Anyway, we have to get going. Practice session starts at ten.”

“I will meet you later.” Arthur said, drinking his cup of tea. Kiku picked up his tray and walked off.

* * *

 

Alfred was busy sorting some documents with Matthew in his office. It was his first day as the official manager of the opera house and he must make sure that everything was all in order. He did not want his first day to be messed up.

“Monsieur Jones, zhere’s something I want to talk to you.” All of a sudden, Francis burst into the managers’ office with a letter in his hands.

Alfred scowled a bit at the sight of the opera’s new patron. If it wasn’t because the opera house was depending on his financing, he would have chased the man out already. “What is it, Francis? We’re not in the mood to listen to your whims!” Alfred said annoyingly as he stacked up some document.

“What is that? Is zhat how you treat me, your patron?” Francis retorted. He slammed the letter on the table before questioning, “Zhis is your doing, isn’t it?”

Blue eyes fell onto the letter that was placed on his desk. Instantly, he recognized the wax seal on the letter, he saw it last night. He threw a cold gaze at Francis before replying, “I would never do such boring stuff, in case you want to know. It’s not my doing.”

He wanted to turn away but Francis got a grip on Alfred’s arm. “Zhis is your doing, wasn’t it? After all, you had wanted Arthur for yourself.”

“If I wanted to, I would have challenge you openly, not write some stupid threatening letter like a coward.” Alfred snapped back.

“If it’s a challenge you want, then a challenge you will get. I won’t go easy on you for winning over my darling Arthur.”

“I doubt Arthur would want to be with someone like you.” Alfred spat. “I heard that you have been flirting with many young ladies and you seemed to have so much fun with them last night. Who would ever wanted to love someone like you, young master?”

“Arthur and I had known each other longer than you had thought.” Francis said.

Matthew who was sitting aside just can’t watch this any longer. He stood up and quickly came in between them. “Now could you two just stop arguing, you all would have caused a ruckus.”

“Desole, Mathieu, I didn’t see you just now.” Francis said.

Matthew placed both his hands at his waist, giving off an authoritative look. “Monsieur, I know you might not be happy with whatever the content is in the letter, but it doesn’t mean that you can simply accused someone of doing it before knowing the truth.”

“Mattie is right, didya hear that?” Alfred interjected. “You don’t have any proof that we wrote this, do you?”

“Alfred, stop it!” Matthew hushed him with a glare. “Francis, in case you’re concern about this, we received a similar letter from this person last night as well.”

When he heard about Matthew’s revelation, Francis raised his eyebrows slightly. “Mon dieu, what is in the letter?”

“He said he welcomed us to his opera house and how we should respect his priority and request on managing the opera house.” Alfred answered. “Oh, he also talked about Arthur, saying how talented and good-looking he was.” Blue eyes glanced at Francis, as if he was about to have a reaction to the news.

“Do you believe in all these things?” Francis questioned.

“Are you just foolish or dumb?” Alfred replied sarcastically. “Obviously, this is a prank by some people who wanted the opera house for himself. I would never spend my time on all these stupid jokes and pranks.”

“But Alfred, can’t you tell that all these were a little too much for a prank?” Matthew whispered in his ears. Alfred just ignored him.

“It’s nice you just shrugged it off as a prank.” Francis said, one finger twirling on his blonde lock. “But I’d rather take it seriously, especially when it comes to matter involving Arthur.”

Alfred could felt his rage built up when Francis mentioned Arthur’s name. He was about to yell at the man but was stopped by Matthew. The other manager hold his arm in a surprisingly iron-like grip and his violet eyes could tell that things weren’t going to be good if he continued like this. Having no choice, Alfred decided to just let Francis go.

* * *

 

Sometime after past lunch time Alfred found himself walking the hallway of several practice rooms. He could hear the melody of the orchestra coming from one hall and the commanding voice of the dance instructor in the dance hall, at the other end of the hall, he recognized the singing voices of the choir girls.

Alfred listened the music coming from all direction, as if they combined into one great symphony. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice someone was calling out to him.

“Ex-Excuse me, sir?” That person called out to him. Alfred snapped out of his daydream as he recognized that familiar voice. He turned around to find himself face-to-face with a man with messy blonde hair, thick eyebrows and a pair of stunningly familiar green eyes.

“Arthur!” He gasped, his voice was a mix of surprise and excitement. “It’s you.”

Arthur looked up at the man quizzically. “Mr Manager, is there something you need?”

Now that was not an answer Alfred was expecting at all. He placed both hands on Arthur’s shoulder, making Arthur looked at him eye-to-eye. “Arthur, it’s me, Alfred. Don’t you remember me?”

Arthur swatted Alfred’s hands away as if it was nothing. “Mr Manager… Or Alfred, should I say, I don’t have time to meddle with someone I don’t know.” He replied. “I still have things to do at the moment.”

All Alfred could do was stare at the man before him with gaping mouth, a baffled expression on his face. “Arthur, you aren’t joking, are you? Don’t you remember me? I am the boy who got smacked in the head by a baseball because I looked at you for too long.”

But Arthur did not seemed to pay any attention to Alfred. He lightly shoved Alfred out of his way to create pathway. “That was amusing.” He said coldly. “For someone like you to get infatuated to the point of being hit, you could’ve lost your brain.” He brushed pass Alfred’s shoulder, turning back to face him again, Alfred could see some sort of uneasiness in his eyes as their gaze locked. “If you have nothing of importance, please leave. You could have done that flirting of yours at other places with other people.” He said before entering one of the practice theatre. Alfred could only watched him left in disbelief.

Arthur doesn’t remembered him? Why would he say such words to him? Alfred felt his heart sank as he returned to his office in disappointment. “Why did you forget me, Arthur?”

Matthew noted Alfred’s sour mood the moment he entered the office. He knew what his brother had in his mind, but choose not to speak about the topic since it will only make things worse.

* * *

 

_Happiness and joy_   
_Sorrow and sadness_   
_You and I_   
_We shared them together_

Alfred remembered the first day he entered high school. It was a moment he had waited since he was a child. He had always wanted to enrol in Springfield High School, dreaming of joining the school’s famous baseball team. He father hoped otherwise, he wanted Alfred to focus on his study so that he can succeed and take over his family business. But he decided to let Alfred be, wanting him to enjoy his childhood and adolescence to the fullest.

It was then it happened. Alfred was carrying a pile of books heading to class when he bumped into someone.

“Bloody hell, watch where you’re going.” A heavy British accent said.

“I coulda said the same thing.” Alfred said, picking up his books. He didn’t manage to get a good look at the person he knocked down. He hastily picked up his books and fled the scene as he don’t want to confront that person. He could’ve heard that person calling out to him, but Alfred totally ignored him.

It was during lunchtime that Alfred realized he lost his money and he was unable to buy himself lunch. Having no choice, he decided that he will have to starve himself on the first day in high school until when he felt someone tapping his shoulder.

“This is yours, right?” That person said. “You dropped it this morning when I ran into you.” Alfred turned around, facing a young man who handed him his wallet back. “I tried to call you, but you just keep running away. Do be more careful with your belongings next time.”

Alfred didn’t registered what that person said to him. All he could do was stare into his eyes, the purest green he had ever seen in his life. He felt himself enchanted and being pulled towards those eyes.

“Are you listening, Mr Alfred F. Jones?” That person said, he almost practically yelled at him.

Alfred snapped out of his trance when he heard what the lad has said. “W-Wait, how didya know my name?”

“Your student card is in the wallet.” The young man sighed.

Alfred accepted his wallet back from the young man, finding it hard to form words in his mouth. “Th-Thank you… I’m really sorry… for running into you earlier without apologizing.”

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s really… nothing.” He said. “Though you almost broke my violin’s bow, but everything’s alright.”

“Is it alright if I treated you for lunch today, as my apology?” Alfred asked, somehow finding interest in this young man. He thought he could saw the boy blushed on the cheeks.

“Y-You… You don’t have to do that. I… I had already forgave you.” He said. It was then he seemed to remember something. He looked at his watch before exclaiming. “A-Anyway, I had to go to attend something. Maybe next time.” And all Alfred could do is watch him picked up his stuff and rushed off.

Alfred didn’t met that boy again for the few coming weeks. He could care less as well since he has been busy with school work and sports activity.

* * *

 

One day Alfred had just finished his baseball practice session and was preparing to leave. When he almost exited the school compound, he heard some sort of commotion behind the school building and decided to investigate it.

As he approached the noise, he saw a group of boys cornering a boy around the same age as him. He recognized them as the baseball club senior, one of them was swinging his baseball bat dangerously before the boy. They must have some sort of raging fit right now, seeing that they lost a match just now and was now out venting their anger. This boy appeared to be their unfortunate target.

“Get lost, you bloody son of a bitch.” He could heard the boy said shakily. “I warn you to leave me alone or I will rip your head off!”

“You won’t be able to do that, will you?” One of them teased. “How can you overpower six of us?”

The one holding the bat grinned maniacally. “To talk back to people like that, let’s see who will win this!”

Alfred wasn’t really contented to join in this commotion but his instinct told likewise. The moment when the bat was about to hit the boy, he quickly rushed and stood in front of the boy shielding him, taking the hit instead.

The hit was a hard blow. Alfred thought that he could heard his skull crack before he lost consciousness. Before he lost his senses, he saw a pair of worried emerald green eyes watching at him while calling out his name repeatedly.

Alfred didn’t remembered how long had he passed out. But in between consciousness, he could heard the soothing voice of someone in his dreams, lulling him into sleep.

“You don’t have to be afraid, with me by your side.” The voice said.

“Wh-Who are you…?” He managed to ask.

“I’m your angel. I will protect you and always stay by your side no matter what or where. Even if you can’t see me, I will always be there for you…”

When Alfred finally woke up, he found himself laying on the bed in his room with his head being bandaged. His family was just next to him, both having a mix of reaction and emotion to his injury. Luckily, the wound was not a big matter and he recovered quickly. He returned back to school after two days of resting.

Alfred didn’t thought much about that boy or that incident, though he received some seniors make fun of him being a ‘failed hero’. He wasn’t going to realize that his life will soon take a turn.

_Nothing to fear_   
_Forever in my heart_   
_Blooming flowers prevail_

It was just a regular afternoon where Alfred had his baseball training session. As they ran out of balls and bats, the coach asked Alfred to help him fetch some of their equipment.

As he made his way to the store room, he started hearing the tune of a melody. His ears perked up, listening attentively to the hymn. The beautiful rhythm of the violin echoed in the deserted hallways. It was weird, he thought to himself. He never had an interest when it comes to music but why does this music was able to capture his heart?

Subconsciously, he began walking towards where the music came from, the music room. He noticed one of the windows was slightly ajar and decided to take a peak in the room to see who was playing the violin.

In the centre of the room sat the boy whom he knocked down on his first day in school, he can’t recall his name, however. Alfred watched on, feeling enchanted by the violinist’s play. Behind the boy was a picture of an angel with large wings, and from his line of sight, the wings seemed to merge perfectly with the boy. Alfred could felt a gasp stuck on his throat as he hold his breath, awestruck with what he saw before him. “An angel.” He whispered to himself.

He would have wished to continue watching the boy playing his violin, but a smack on his back snapped him out of his realm. “There you are.” One of his baseball friend said, “You’re supposed to fetch some stuff but here you are spyin’ on people. The coach’s gonna go through the roof with you being ten minutes late.”

And after that, Alfred ended up back on his training field with his coach ranting on how slow he was and forced him to run ten lapse. But since then, Alfred’s mind would surface the image of the boy playing the violin, as if it has intoxicated him. Ever since then, Alfred has been yearning on meeting the boy again.

* * *

 

_A field of grass_   
_Leads to heaven_   
_A gentle wind passed by_   
_When you gave a smile_

It was another normal day in school. Alfred joined class and played baseball as usual. Once he finished with his baseball practice session, he packed up and decided to head straight back home. Just as he exited the school, he caught sight of the boy sitting on a bench reading. He decided that this was his chance to know more about the boy.

“Hey,” He patted the boy by the shoulder, causing him to shift his attention from his book to him.

“Oh, it’s you.” The boy said. “How did you feel?”

“Of course I’m fine, dude.” Unconvinced, the boy stood up and ran his hand over Alfred’s hair and his forehead. Alfred didn’t understand what had come to the boy, but when the later let out a sigh in relief, he could guess it mean good. “Thank goodness it’s nothing bad, I’m going to regret over you getting injured for my sake.”

Alfred didn’t seemed to get the point until it hit him. “W-Wait, are you the guy who almost got hit?” He quickly grabbed hold of the boy’s hand. “They didn’t hurt you right, er… mr…?”

“Call me Arthur.” The boy said, “Arthur Kirkland.” He pulled away his hand from Alfred’s grasp. “Anyway, thank you for saving me that day, I’m really grateful about it.”

“No prob, it’s the hero’s job anyway.” Alfred said.

“Hero?” Arthur quirked his thick eyebrow amusingly.

“I’m the hero, of course. And heroes are supposed to save people in trouble.”

“And got yourself hurt in the process?”

“That mean nothing to me. We just have to get back up and fight.”

Arthur managed a small laugh as he picked up his book. “It’s really a pleasure meeting you, Alfred. But I would be going now.” He turned to leave but Alfred quickly took hold of his hand.

“I saw you played the violin the other day. You’re really good at it.” He piped in.

He could saw a red tinge coloured Arthur’s cheeks. “Th-Thank you, music has always been my passion. Since young, I was taught to play both the violin and piano, and my mother also taught me to sing.”

“That’s amazing.” Alfred said cheerfully. “Your parents must be great musicians.”

“You could say that.” Arthur mumbled. “We came from England because my parents said there were better opportunity in America. Though I would prefer a quiet lifestyle back in my home country, but seeing so many cultures in America isn’t that bad.”

“Hey, did you live nearby?” Alfred asked again.

“Just somewhere down the road near Denver.”

“Sweet, I live nearby that area as well. Would you like to come with me for a little walk around the park or something? I’m sure you could find something nice to see.”

Arthur was taken aback by the invitation but was happy nonetheless. “I think I got some spare time before dinner. But as long as it’s not too far, it would be ok.” And hence, Alfred took hold of his hand and led him to their first destination together.

_Our lives are strolling in a world of wonder_   
_A poem of my life, I’ll spread it so they remember_   
_We radiated a dazzling light_   
_For the briefest moment in our long history_

It was from that point onwards, their friendship has deepened. Alfred would listened to Arthur’s play and the same as Arthur would watch Alfred playing baseball. Arthur helped Alfred in his study since Alfred really sucked at it. He was also by Arthur’s side comforting him when he was feeling down regarding his poor performance.

However, their happy moments did not last long. Three years after their first meeting, they were forced apart by unexpected turn of events. Arthur’s mother died of an illness. In order to forget such painful incident, Arthur’s father decided to move back to England where they could spent some quiet and peaceful moment.

Of course Arthur was sad about his mother’s passing, at the same time reluctant to leave Springfield. Alfred was by his side all the time giving him the comfort he needed.

_Shared for a time_   
_But suddenly fell down_   
_Flowers of a dream_

Arthur once said his dream is to be a famous musician and had performance across the world, he wanted to enlighten people and make people remember him for his music and songs. “But will the people I hold dearest remember me? How will I recognize them when so many people remember the same song?”

“If people remember you because of your song, why not we write a song just for the two of us? In case we were to meet each other in the future, this song will help us recognize each other.” Alfred suggested. They hence agreed that they will write a song in the name of their friendship during this three years’ time. Within the few weeks’ time before Arthur left, they spent most of their time writing this song and practicing it.

_I love you_   
_I miss all of you_   
_No one knew what had happened then_   
_I won’t even say goodbye_

* * *

 

And just a few days after finishing their song to perfection, Arthur had left for England. Alfred wished him luck and here he was, reunited with Arthur in the Paris Opera House, but Arthur… doesn’t remember him.

“Maybe I should try singing the song the next time I meet him.” Alfred said to himself. He was in so deep in thought that he didn’t realize he was walking down the theatre hallway. That was when his ear picked up some sort of familiar melody.

_Birds are singing_   
_Clouds are drifting_   
_Trees are rustling_   
_They called for the night_   
_Time passes by, with merciless pride_   
_The sun will rise again_

That song, the lyrics and the voice… He could hear the gentle rhythm of the piano, fingers flying across black and white keys like butterflies, gentle and soothing.

_Our lives are strolling in a world of wonder_   
_A poem of my life, I’ll spread it so they remember_   
_We radiated a dazzling light_   
_For the briefest moment in our long history_

“Could it be…?” Alfred wondered, walking into the box where the melody come from. On the centre of the stage stood a grand piano, on the seat sat a young man with blonde hair. Alfred watched him playing the piano with much expertise skill while singing the song he and Alfred had spent writing to keep their memories.

“Arthur.” Alfred gasped, once again seeing a pair of wings behind Arthur as he played the piano. Arthur seemed to notice another human presence that he stopped playing and turned around to face him.

“Al… I mean, Mr Jones, what are you doing here at this late hour?” Arthur asked in surprise.

“I could have asked the same thing.” Alfred said, taking a step closer. “Or rather, I am more intrigue to know why you would pretend not to recognize me just now.”

“Some things are better off without answer.” Arthur answered haughtily. “I don’t intend to be rude, but people had their reason.”

“You really didn’t change at all, Arthur. Although you had become quite cold to your old friend.” Alfred joked sarcastically.

“S-Sorry, Alfred… I didn’t meant to do it…” Arthur said with a sigh. “But I’m really happy to see you, you know?”

A smile suddenly flashed across Alfred’s cheek as he wrapped an arm over Arthur. “C’mon, I’m just joking, ya know?” He stifled a laugh while Arthur glared at him. “Anyway, great performance you had last night. You really captured everyone’s heart, but you gave me a heart attack when you fainted on stage.”

Arthur smiled a little and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m fine. It’s just that it’s the first time I was given such a role that I probably overstress myself.” He continued, “But seeing my wish come true. I’m quite happy with it.”

“And you are truly gifted.” Alfred added. “You sure took after your parents.”

Arthur looked up at the ceiling as he talked, “When I came to the opera house at age eighteen, I would often sneaked into one of the theatre at late night when nobody was around. I would spend some time playing the piano and singing to my family far away.”

“Your family…” A thought crossed Alfred’s mind. “How are they at the moment? Is your father doing well?”

A sad frown soon replaced his smile. “Unfortunately, he died two years after my mother. He just can’t take the grief of losing her.”

“I’m sorry about that…” Alfred apologizing, feeling sad for his father’s leaving.

“But before he died, he said he would sent an angel to my side. That angel will protect me and make my dreams come true.”

“Does such things ever exist?” Alfred asked, feeling a bit uneasy when Arthur started talking about ghost and spirits.

“He did.” Arthur answered. “Since I came to the opera house, I would hear a particular voice singing to me when I sleep and I also heard him talking to me sometimes. My father… He sent the angel for me.”

“Look, perhaps you’re fascinated with this angel of yours, but I don’t think it’s my liking.” Alfred said. Arthur laughed amusingly, “I see that you’re still the old Alfred I knew those years. You’re afraid of all these stuffs at high school.”

“And you always scared the crap out of me…” Alfred bit back playfully, not wanting Arthur to tease him. “But I guess you’re right, now that you had become a famous singer in our opera house, second to Lady Hedervary.”

A sigh escaped from Arthur as he thought about his so called Angel of Music. There was a moment of silent before he decided to speak up. “You’re right, he will be watching over me.”

“Hey Arthur, would you mind playing the piano to me?” Alfred asked. “I want to reminisce those days when we were young.”

“I can’t deny a request. It was the job of a pianist to entertain his audience.” Arthur took a seat on the piano stool and began playing a few songs. Alfred closed his eyes, letting the music take over his thoughts. Soon, he forgot all his worries, and about his argument with Francis as well, it’s just him and Arthur, being together like when they were young.

This continued until when Arthur finished his third song, he realized it was very late already and everyone has probably gone to bed. “I think we should retire to bed. It was quite late already.”

“You’re right.” Alfred said getting up from his seat.

“Um… Alfred, could I ask you something?” Arthur suddenly piped up just when he was about to leave.

“What is it?”

“I was planning to leave the opera house tomorrow. My father’s death anniversary is coming and I will be returning to England for two weeks. So I was asking for your permission to allow my leave, since there would be no lead singer for the time being…”

“It should not be a problem.” Alfred said. “Since there won’t be any show or production for a time being except for rehearsal. We will just have to make some arrangement so that you will be excused from rehearsal.”

“Are you really ok with that?” Arthur asked. “I don’t wish to delay everything nor disappoint anyone just because I’m not around.”

“It'll be alright, Arthur.” Alfred said, patting the Brit’s shoulder. “I can handle it. We won’t be having any important performance at the moment so you just take your time and have a rest before you return. I don’t want to see you fainting on stage again.”

“Is that a threat?” Arthur asked back, not finding the advice nice at all.

“As a manager, I have to be concern of my subordinate’s wellbeing so that my business can prosper.” Alfred said, putting on his manager’s confident smirk. “Now c’mon, I shall escort you back to your room.”

As Alfred led Arthur out of the room, he thought he caught sight of something lingering in the theatre. Blinking, he darted an eye sideway and caught a glimpse of something that resembled a ball of fire floating at the ceiling. A shiver ran down his spine as he quickly turn away his sight. “Alfred, what’s wrong?” Arthur asked in concern seeing him spacing out for a moment. “I-It… It’s nothing, just in thought.” Alfred said, quickly leaving the area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The music lyrics used in this chapter is Ephemeral Flowers, which is also from this fandom and sung by Saki. It's a really bittersweet song that talked about the beautiful but short moments we will have to go through in our life. Oh, I'm already crying just thinking about it...


	5. The Singer: Call of Motherland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur returns home and chaos ensures.

Arthur woke up early the next day morning. He packed up some of his belonging and brought along some money before taking a carriage to the harbour, where he would take a ship and sail back to England.

The journey back to his hometown in England took three days. Once he set foot on England, Arthur first made his way around the streets in the town of London. It would be his routine, visiting the shops he once visit when young, though not everything is the same as how he remembered. The city has developed and industrialized in the time he was away. He visited the old pastry shop he often went to buy his favourite scones and had tea. The owner still recognized him and gave him some of his bread and tea leaves as he left. The seamstress shop was still at its original location, but workers no longer embroider or sew clothing, everything was replace with sewing machine to help making work faster. He also had a stop by the town bookshop, the owner he once remembered had retired and now his son was working in his place instead. As he continued on, he found it sad that the bar his parents would often went to entertain its customer was close and replaced by other shops. As dusk was drawing closer, Arthur continued on his way towards the outskirt of London where his home was.

Arthur walked down the familiar pathway that led to the mansion of his childhood, a place he loathed with a core. Personally, he had some distaste of this place. No, he doesn’t hate this very place he once called a home, he just disliked some of its occupants. In fact, this was the place where he first came to on the day he was born and grew up before the family temporary left for America.

As the mansion lawn came into view, Arthur could smell the crisp air of London’s countryside. Springtime was his favourite season of the year where bluebell will cover the lawn in different shades of blue and purple. He would spent his time playing with the fairies at the pond in the nearby woods. His father would then accompanied him to go riding around the countryside as they enjoyed a moment of silence.

“How nostalgic…” Arthur mumbled to himself as he approached the mansion. The autumn breeze blew by, but he ignored the chills. He continued forward, his shoes stepping on the dry autumn leaves. Autumn, as people say, is beautiful yet sad at the same time. His father quoted it as ‘the moment when all the good things come to an end and preparation for the final moment.’ To him, autumn is the time where happiness existed only in memories and the only thing that remained in reality is a void.

Slowly, Arthur approached the doorstep to the mansion. He was about to knock on the door but it was suddenly swung open with abrupt force. The person who did this could’ve bumped onto him but luckily he managed not to do so.

“Oh… So ye’r back, like finally.” The man before him grumbled. “We have been waiting for you.”

“I hope the waiting is not too long.” Arthur mocked, stepping into the house. “I expected my homecoming ceremony to be more… exciting, but I guess that will not happen at all.”

“Ye’r expectin’ too much.” Alistair snorted. “Get in her’ already, we got work tae do.”

Arthur mumbled something under his breath as he went to put his baggage in his old room. The faint scent of apple and cinnamon lingered in the room, reminding him of his childhood. While he won’t voice it out, his brothers had done a good job maintaining his room to make it look presentable and comfortable. He scanned his room for moment but didn’t stayed for long as he quickly went to help his brothers on the preparations.

* * *

 

To say that Arthur hated it brother, it wasn’t a lie. Yet, it wasn’t the truth either. His eldest brother, Alistair would be the one teasing and making fun of him the most when he was a child. That hasn’t stopped yet. Seamus and Fergus would laugh him as a ‘mama boy’ because of his interest in embroidery and gardening. They would often laughed at Arthur being more girlish rather than manly since he was good in performing arts. While Dylan was being more understanding, he did nothing in comforting but joined the rest when he got bullied. Though it was rather understandable, since Arthur’s interest were the closest to his parents which made them proud of him, the fact had made his brothers jealous of the attention he received.

“How did things go in Paris? Have you found a nice lady yet?” Dylan teased a bit as they cleaned up the compound.

“I swear that all Parisians are like frogs.” Arthur muttered. “They spoke disgusting language and sat too close to you that you felt like being fucked.”

“And yet, you lived there for almost three years.” Fergus laughed.

“It’s the art and music that captivated me, not the people.”

“So? Have things gotten any better at the opera house? Has anyone finally recognized your talent?” Dylan asked.

“Things in the opera house has been quite hectic recently.” Arthur answered half-heartedly. “You gotta be grateful that I managed to sneak out from there just to come home.”

“Just like how you said it.” Fergus teased. “Things would’ve been quiet if it weren’t for you.”

“If it wasn’t because father and mother have an eye fer ye, we could’ve kicked you out. But since ye decided to run away, I can’t help it.” Alistair mocked. “But the house has gotten quiet after ye left, I couldn’t help feelin’ like everythin’ s dead.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Alistair.” Dylan said. “Though you got infuriated when Arthur left the house.”

“I make my own choice.” Arthur stood his ground. “It was your fault after all for treating me badly. I can’t stand you guys teasing me any longer.”

“Yea, that is our mama boy.” Seamus teased back. “All father and mother cared about is you and you alone, they didn’t care about how good we are no matter how hard we tried.”

“I know you guys don’t like the way father and mother treated you, but that doesn’t mean they stopped caring about you. Don’t you remember the time when you got yourself into a fight with a group of children? Mother ended up being by your side for weeks.”

“I would have preferred that.” Seamus commented. “But can you guys stop all the chitchat and help me set this up?” And everyone resumed back to what they were doing, occasionally a bicker would rise among the siblings but it was just the usual daily routine Arthur had come to appreciate being in the Kirkland manor.

* * *

The next day was a rather gloomy day. The sky was dull in the morning, clouds shielded the sunlight from penetrating onto the ground. The Kirkland siblings gathered together for once as they headed to the cemetery where the remains of their parents laid.

He remembered as a young boy, his father would play either the piano or the violin and his mother would sing and dance along with the music. At times, his mother will hold his hands and let him danced together with her, if not they would sang a duet. Eventually when he was old enough, his father began instructing him on playing the musical instrument. Both of them took pride on him, saying that he has their talent and would bring him along with them as they made performance across the world.

Arthur followed his brothers as they treaded across the graveyard. In the midst of the graves, there laid two graves side-by-side. There are some bouquet of flowers being left in place by the people who remembered the Kirkland for their wonderful performance. On the plate of the tombstone carved the names of Arthur’s dearest people.

Henry Reginald Kirkland  
1873—1918  
Loving father and husband  
His memories now reside in his music

Elizabeth Cordelia Kirkland  
1876—1916  
Beloved mother and wife  
She now sings with the angels

Arthur couldn’t help but let himself broke down for once, not caring that drew people’s attention. They were his parents, the people that made him be who he was today and yet, they had to leave before he got the chance to share his success with them. There were so many things yet to fulfil, dreams that they always vowed to make it come true, the future which they always hold on with hope and yearning. But all those came to an end before they could see it becoming fruition.

He remembered the day when his mother died. She came into contact with an epidemic. His father was desperate to save her but the doctors said there’s nothing they could do. That night, Arthur stood by the door as he peeked into the room where his mother laid in her deathbed. Her voice was a low and raspy one, so unlike the usual enchanted voice that would enrapture the heart of many. His father was by her side until she took in her last breath.

After that tragic incident, his father decided that they returned to England. Staying in America has invoked too much memories of his mother, the family soon settled back into their quiet life in their old manor at the outskirt of London. Life had somewhat return back to normal. Arthur’s brothers got themselves jobs to keep the family living. Eventually, his father would left the manor to do some performance on the street or the bar and sometimes, whenever people requested for his performance at the music theatre, but Arthur could sense some sort of emptiness in his music, as if the lyrics were gone. His father never truly recovered from their mother’s death.

Two years after their mother’s death, his father eventually succumbed, driven by the grief of losing his beloved wife. During his final moments, he told of Arthur about his music career and how he hoped Arthur to pick it up someday. He told of Arthur about an old friend called Yao who worked at Paris Opera House and said that perhaps someday Arthur would be able to be a successful artisan in the opera house. “I have faith in you, my son.” He said to him, “Someday you will carry our family legacy on the path of music.”

Things gone hectic after his father’s death. His relationship with his brother was not a happy one, his parents’ death had brought his happiness out of the home. Unable to bear the pressure anymore, Arthur packed some of his belongings and the money his father had left for him before leaving his birthplace in the middle of the night. Thereafter, he made his way to Paris and make acquaintance with Yao and his new life in another place began.

* * *

Arthur walked down the path in the forest just not too far away from the manor, lost in thoughts all alone. The dried leaves made crunching sound as his boots stepped on it. As he continued to walk down the path, the trail led him to a lake in the middle of the forest. This place was once Arthur’s favourite place, the place where he met his fairy friends and played with them.

Slowly, he stood by the side of the lake as he gazed down at his own reflection. The calm water somehow reflected something troubling in him but he can’t quite place it. Eventually, he decided that he would sing to himself, hoping that could calm his nerve. He remembered this song his father was intending to write for his mother, he told him that one of his ancestor had wanted to write this song but died before he could finished it. The song was incomplete, but his mother would sometime sang some of the chord, hoping to give him some inspiration. He found the song to have a rather soothing effect on him that it cleared away his thoughts. But, both his parents died before seeing the song came to completion. His father never brought himself to finish writing it as doing so brought back too many memories of his mother. One of his dying wish is to see this song came to completion, in the name of both his ancestor and his wife and Arthur vowed to fulfil it in his place.

“ _You are the ocean’s grey waves, destined to seek life beyond the shore just out of reach_ …” Before he realized, Arthur began humming the song. “ _Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time, the path is yours to climb_ …”

His singing was interrupted when he detected another presence, he wasn’t all alone. “Who’s there?” He asked, whipping around and trying to locate this extra guest.

“Is that really you, Arthur?” A voice called out, but he couldn’t quite see the source of the voice. “It has been a long time, I’m so happy to see you.”

It took a while for Arthur to finally notice a fairy just next to him. “Have we met before?”

“Don’t you remember?” The fairy asked. “When you were young, you used to come here and play with us.”

“Maribelle?” Arthur suddenly remembered, green eyes lightened up with delight. “I can’t believe I’d see you again.”

“This place has become really quiet after you left. Some of the fairies had moved away. I just happened to stop by for a rest, only to hear you singing.” Maribelle said.

“It’s good to see you again, Maribelle.” Arthur said. “Though things had been rather hectic lately, I don’t really live here now. I had moved to live at somewhere else.”

“I understand.” Maribelle nodded solemnly. “Things changed as time flies, and you can’t do anything to stop it from happening.”

“I know, but not all changes are bad.” Arthur said. “I lost my parents. At first, I thought that my world has come to an end but on another thought, it was because of their death that motivated me to work harder so that I can be successful.”

“I see you found yourself the answer.” A small smile graced upon Maribelle. “Your singing has really improve, your song captivated me that I got lost in it for a second.”

“I’m glad to hear that you like my singing.” Arthur smiled in return. “This song was written by my father, but he didn’t get to finish it so I’m doing it for him. But I just don’t know if it will turn out good.”

“You can do it, Arthur.” Maribelle encouraged. “I believe in you. If you want to be successful, the first thing you need is to have confidence in yourself.”

“You’re right.” Arthur smiled back. “Thank you, Maribelle. Your words mean a lot to me. I will do my best.” And for once, he found some comfort being back in his homeland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just don't know how to end this chapter. And the ending looks out of place in here. But I was intending to do some big hints on how this story is going to progress...


	6. The Patron: Lovers by Seine River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the beginning until the end, Francis has been protectively watching over Arthur.

“That’s all for now. You all may take rest for a moment.” Ludwig clapped his hands. All the cast members stopped with their rehearsal before scattering aside to get a breather or a drink.

 

“Looks like everything is going perfectly.” Alfred commented. “Hopefully tonight’s play is going to be successful.”

 

“Of course it will, with the awesome me and _mein bruder_ here.” Gilbert laughed while patting Ludwig’s shoulder, which the younger man was not enjoying it at all. “I’m gonna ensure that the show tonight will be as awesome as I am.”

 

“I appreciate your help, but you could at least tone down your voice.” Matthew commented. “You’re not supposed to make any noise from the backstage above.”

 

“Oh c’mon, birdie, the people should know that the show wouldn’t be awesome if it wasn’t for the awesome me.” Gilbert boasted.

 

“Just keep yourself down.” Matthew reminded. “We still got that ‘ghost’ who will be watching the show. You will get into trouble if you ruined it.”

 

“Nah, who cares about all those silly ghost stories, only scaredy-cat would believe in them.” Gilbert shrugged it off.

 

“It is very disrespectful of you to say such things.” Yao sudden appearance startled them. “Even if you don’t believe in these things, it is still bad to scare people with those stories.”

 

“Mister Yao, did you came to oversee the dance?” Matthew asked.

 

“That was part of my reason.” Yao shrugged his shoulder. “Anyway, how is Arthur? I hope you are not putting too much stress on him.”

 

“Arthur is fine.” Matthew replied.

 

“Ja, no problem. He sings so fine that the performance tonight is gonna be awesome.” Gilbert added in as he slipped an arm around Matthew’s shoulder, to which the manager felt a little uncomfortable.

 

Yao scowled a little, whether it is about the remark or Gilbert’s action, nobody can tell. “As much as I was concern, I understand that Arthur will be filling Madame Elizaveta’s position for the time being but please don’t push him too hard. I don’t want him to get stress out because of his role as the lead singer.”

 

“I assure you, Arthur was alright. We kept an eye on him and his performance and so far he has been doing well.” Alfred said coming out of who knows where.

 

Yao nodded stoically before turning away. “I appreciate you all for taking care of Arthur but I advised that you watched over his… attitude, instead of just his health. Also, there may have been a darker force at play in this matter.”

 

“What are you talking about, Mister Yao?” Matthew asked but his voice was too soft to be heard and Yao was gone before they could even got an answer.

 

“Don’t take his word into your heart, birdie. Yao always talk such senseless stuff.” Gilbert said, trying to convince Matthew.

 

“It’s not like we have time to care for what he said either.” Alfred added. “There are lots of matter to handle tonight, we gotta work on it.” And the three of them went their separate ways.

* * *

Francis had accompanied Arthur to the rooftop during the break. It’s not that Arthur asked him but he decided to follow Arthur out of concern. They shared a moment of silent as Arthur leaned against the railing, green eyes gazed far away into the horizon.

 

Arthur’s behaviour has been bothering him somehow. Arthur has been on top form during the rehearsal but Francis could notice he was being stiff for some unknown reason and how his voice appeared to be forced. It concerns him seeing the way Arthur behave. Has his role as the lead singer stressed him out too much?

 

“Arthur, are you alright?” Francis asked, worry etched in his brows.

 

“Of course I’m alright, Francis.” Arthur said. “What’s with the question?”

 

“You seem rather stressed out during the rehearsal just now. Are you sure everything is alright?”

 

Arthur shrugged off the question nonchalantly. “I’ll be fine, Francis.” He turned around to face the other man. “Everything is going smoothly, there’s nothing to worry about.”

 

Francis scowled a little at his reply. “Don’t lie to me, cheri. You should know that I had known you since we were both kids and I can read you like a book.”

 

“So much like you, frog.” Arthur huffed. “But I remembered the real Francis to be someone who’d rather stick around with young women and do some dirty stuff on them.”

 

“I didn’t stoop that low alright.” Francis fought back. A moment of silence followed after that, before the two of them broke out in laughter.

 

“Reminds me so much of the old time.” Arthur chuckled. “It looks like we haven’t change at all.”

 

“I cannot disagree with that, cher.” Francis said, before his expression became serious. “Are you sure you are alright with this arrangement? I don’t want you to get stressed out just because of your role as the new lead singer.”

 

“I will be fine, Francis. I promise you.” Arthur replied. “I may be busy but you don’t have to worry about me. I can manage this.”

 

“If you say so,” Francis nodded in understanding as he gently caressed Arthur’s palm, “but please, if you’re troubled or need any help, I will always be by your side no matter what.”

 

Arthur was stunned at Francis’ word. It took him a moment to break out from his reverie and faced Francis eye-to-eye. “Thank you Francis. I-I really appreciate your help, I mean it. But… some things I’d rather prefer to keep it to myself.” He said. “You don’t have to worry about it. It’s not any big deal.”

 

“Just don’t force yourself too much.” Francis said. “I will always be there for you whenever you need me. You just have to tell me.”

 

Arthur let out a chuckle. “It just made me wonder when you become this serious.”

 

“I’m always serious when it comes to someone I love.” Francis answered back. “Zhat’s just who I am.”

 

“If that’s so, I hope that whoever this person is truly love you back. I hope that you won’t come back with a broken heart.” Arthur mocked back.

 

“Oui, I will make sure to win over that person’s heart, just you watch.” Francis said in a playful tone.

 

“If you insist, I will wait and see then.” Arthur laughed before he continued, “But if you please excuse me at the moment, I need to return back for my rehearsal.”

 

“Understood, may I escort you back?” Francis asked, mimicking that of a prince charming.

 

“Lead the way then, my prince.”

* * *

_Tonight, the moon is carrying off your thoughts as you cross the sea_

_As always, morning will come again, and night will come again._

 

Francis remembered the day when he first met Arthur like yesterday. That day, Francis accompanied his father to the Paris Opera House for some errand. He got bored listening to the adult’s talking with their business so he was given the permission to stroll around the opera house. Savouring his free time alone, he went off exploring the garden compound of the opera house, admiring the beautiful rose bushes. That was when he heard the sound of someone singing.

 

Following towards the source of the voice, he saw a young boy who appeared to be a few years younger than him standing next to the fountain as he practiced his singing. But the melody was quickly came to a halt when the boy noticed his presence. He turned towards the direction where Francis was standing before he walked towards him.

 

“Are you looking at me?” was the boy’s first sentence when they first met. Francis took note of his messy blonde hair and the thick eyebrows across his face that resembled a pair of caterpillar, and what registered in his mind is the deep British tone his voice carried.

 

Francis flashed him a grin. “Your singing is so beautiful that I was lost in it for a moment. I would’ve thought that it was a girl singing.”

 

The young boy frowned a little at his statement. “You’re quite a pervert for a child. You know better that I’m a boy, right?”

 

“Words should not be restricted to gender, _mon ami_.” Francis said. “Nothing’s stopping your voice from being beautiful just because you’re a boy.”

 

“If I hear another word from you, I will punch you.” That boy threatened, though he sounded being more embarrassed instead of being angry.

 

“Hush now, _cher_. Your beautiful voice shouldn’t be used to say something so harsh, put them to better use like singing.”

 

“You really want me to smack your face, don’t you?” The boy fired, his emerald green eyes flared dangerously.

 

Francis cringed a little at the boy’s harsh attitude. “I didn’t expect that you would get angry just because I praised you. But I want you to know that I really mean it, I like your singing.”

 

The boy scoffed at him. “You could’ve said it in a simpler way instead of using those cheesy words just now.” He turned his back to him. “Off with you then, I have to go back.”

 

“Wait!” Francis called out again before the boy left. “May I know your name?”

 

Said boy turned back slightly to face him sideway, a scowl on his face told him he was annoyed with his question but Francis found it rather dazzling. “I don’t even know why I would bother answering your question but since you asked, you can have it. My name is Arthur.” And that was the name that would etched in Francis’ mind for years to come.

 

* * *

“Francis, so this is where you are.” Francis was snapped out of his trance when he heard someone calling out for him. The door to his office opened to reveal Matthew who gave him a small smile. “The play tonight is about to start, will you be coming?”

 

“ _Oui_ , I will be coming soon. Thank you for calling me, _Matheiu_.” Matthew gave an understanding nod before he left. Francis went to grab his stuff before leaving his room to the theatre.

 

“Just like the old times.” Francis mumbled to himself. That night of the day after meeting Arthur, he witnessed the duet of a violinist and a singer. That was the first time he got mesmerized by the charm of performing arts. The performance was a great success and the crowds were so satisfied with the performance that they crowded at the performer’s restroom to congratulate them, his father was one of them. Francis had never like to join the crowd so he ended up being stranded at a corner.

 

_Tonight, the moon is returning to the sky, leaving my thoughts behind._

_I’m not as weak as I think, but neither am I as strong._

 

While the room was crowded with people congratulating the performers or the businessmen and nobles trying to offer some glorious gift or fabulous prize in hope that the performers will accept their offer for their own good, Francis’ ear caught hold of the sound of someone playing the violin in a distance. Turning away from the crowd, he went to search for the source of music.

 

It was Arthur, the boy he met earlier at the ground of the opera house. He watched as Arthur pulled the violin strings with his bow as both his eyes close in deep concentration as he focused on playing the melody. But at a certain point his hand slip which causes the melody to go wrong. Francis cringed a little when the tune came out wrong that he could felt the boy had the same reaction as him.

 

“What do you want?” Arthur put down his violin and turned to face him, more like he was asking _what the hell are you doing here?_

 

Francis shrugged. “To see you practice.”

 

“Don’t lie to me.” Arthur rolled his eyes at such reply. “You have been standing there for fifteen minutes already.”

 

“I’m not denying anything. But to be honest, you played the violin very good.”

 

“Not really.” Arthur shook his head, “Surely you had heard the part where I slipped moments ago.”

 

“Hey, I really meant to compliment you, _oui_?” He quickly explained. “Besides, it’s alright to make mistakes from time to time. It’s what makes you better.”

 

“True…” Arthur nodded slightly. “Hey, just to ask, what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, you know?”

 

“I just followed my father just now.” Francis explained. “Everyone were so in awed with the performance tonight that they all came to gather at the performers’ dressing room to congratulate him.”

 

“Oh, about that…” Arthur mumbled. “So how do you find the performance?”

 

“It’s _fantastique_. I have never seen such fine performing arts.” A smile flirted onto his face as he recalled the performance. “The style, the _musique_ , the vocal and the melody… They just complement each other well, just too perfect.”

 

“I’m glad you liked it.” Arthur smiled at that statement as well. “The French I met always said our music are too bland and dull to their taste when it is them who don’t appreciate good music.”

 

“How can you say _zhat_? If a _musique_ is not good enough, obviously the musicians or the performers didn’t put enough effort in it.”

 

“It takes more than just music to make up a good music.” Arthur justified as he placed his violin aside. “Sometimes people just don’t understand the meaning behind such music.”

 

“Arthur, you can’t blame the people.” A voice said. “They did not experience the same thing as we do, so there’s no way we could fully expect them to understand us at the time.”

 

“I’m merely saying my thoughts.” Arthur shrugged. Francis turned around to see his father, standing next to him was another man who has close resemblance to Arthur. He even has those thick eyebrows and green eyes, though darker in shade and his hair was more of a darker shade of blonde than Arthur’s.

 

“Francis, so zhis is where you are. I see you met Monsieur Kirkland’s son.” His father said. “I hope the two of you get along well.”

 

“Monsieur Kirkland?” Francis blinked in confusion as he watched the other man went to ruffle Arthur’s unruly blonde locks.

 

“He’s our main performer for tonight, remember?” His father said. “The play and music are solely his work.”

 

“Really? You wrote this yourself?” Francis asked in amazement.

 

“I still have a lot to learn, young man.” Monsieur Kirkland chuckled. “That took me five years to finish it.”

 

“Your hard work did pay off until the end, Monsieur.” His father smiled. “We looked forward to see more of your play in the future.”

 

It was later that he learnt that his father and Monsieur Kirkland were friends when they were young. Monsieur Kirkland had deep interest in performing arts and would wrote many plays and music as his way of entertainment.

 

“Francis, someday I will leave you in charge with the opera house one day.” His father told him sometime later when he was a teenager. “I hope you will continue to support the theatre and let it flourish with many beautiful songs and plays.”

 

_To you, who sleep under the dark, gloomy night sky,_

_Tonight, I will hum a lullaby of the stars._

_This is the only gift I can give to you._

* * *

Francis followed Matthew as they entered the patron and manager’s lounge. Alfred gave him a glance and quickly turned away, ignoring him. Francis swallowed a lump in his throat. It’s not like he and Alfred were going to be friends in any way if it is about Arthur. Matthew seemed to sense the awkward atmosphere as he went to place a comforting hand on Francis’ shoulder, concern reflecting in his eyes. Francis just forced a smile as a way of reassurance before he took his seat far away from Alfred’s.

 

The theatre tonight was filled with thousands of audience as usual. Everyone is eager to meet and witness the new rising star. From his angle, Francis caught sight of Gilbert and Ludwig at the platform above the stage monitoring the crew while Feliciano was checking on the musicians.

 

Tonight’s play is called ‘ _Guidé par Dream_ ’ which tells the story of a prince who was kidnapped by an enemy kingdom at young age in the midst of the war. One day he had a particularly strange dream that would soon guide him towards where his destiny lies.

 

Arthur was assigned to play the role as the prince. As usual, the dancers led the play with some dazzling movement and formation. Arthur then took it as his cue to step into stage as the dancers cleared away in the center. As graceful as his footstep could carry himself, Arthur descended from the steps into the stage. He took a few breath to steady himself while listening to the music carefully. When he finally found the tempo and the melody, he opened his mouth and began singing to the audience.

 

Francis, Alfred and Matthew all held their breath as they listened the lead singer performed. Yet, they couldn’t help but felt that something was wrong with his voice. Francis glanced at Arthur for a moment and he could noticed how his brows furrowed stressfully as he tried to bring out his vocal chords. It then hit his mind, something was wrong with Arthur’s voice! He didn’t sounded like that during the rehearsal.

 

The managers and the patron weren’t the only one who noticed Arthur’s poor performance. The crowds were disappointed with his performance that they booed and began throwing stuff across the theatre demanding for a refund.

 

Alfred and Matthew quickly stepped in and ordered Gilbert to close the curtains. Matthew ushered Arthur behind the stage while Alfred made an abrupt announcement saying that they will be changing their lead singer. Francis had already darted from his seat to the backstage where Arthur was resting. Matthew was busy overseeing the work while Ludwig and Gilbert were ordering the workers to remove some of the stage props, Arthur was nowhere to be seen however. Francis sees that he has no purpose on staying there so he left the area and went to search for Arthur.

 

* * *

_When I awake from my long and seemingly endless dream,_

_just so that I wouldn’t be overwhelmed with grief,_

_gently, I held your hand with mine._

 

Monsieur Kirkland and his family stayed in France for a few months for their performance. During this time, Francis would met Arthur whenever he accompanied his father to visit the opera house. He would watched Arthur practiced his singing and playing with some musical instrument. Over the time, he found himself developing friendship with Arthur as he enjoyed listening to Arthur’s performance.

 

He don’t need to search far for Arthur. Their minds were connected like music, words are not needed between them, for their thoughts synced like the music. Francis walked down the path with Arthur’s heartbeat at the back of his mind, as if it was guiding him to Arthur. He soon found himself at the garden, not too far away from the fountain was Arthur’s lone figure. Something clenched at his heart, and he knew well enough that Arthur was crying.

 

Similar incident happened years ago in their childhood. Near the end of autumn, it was about time Monsieur Kirkland left France for England, his father threw a party as a farewell ceremony for him. Monsieur Kirkland, as a way of expressing his gratitude, decided to perform for everyone who attended the party. Arthur was asked to play the violin alongside with his father in a form of a duet.

 

However, during the performance, Arthur slipped up at one of the phrase which messed up the music. While the crowd remained silent during the entire play, Francis could hear some of them whispering and murmuring about Arthur’s mistake.

 

“Did he do that on purpose?”

 

“How ridiculous, to make this kind of mistake, even I could perform better at this.”

 

“He’s his son! How could he played that badly?”

 

All Francis could do is turn around and glared at those noble women who gossiped and badmouthed Arthur as if they were the judge. They did not noticed him, of course, the adults were too busy with their own to mind little children like him. If he wasn’t to be polite, he would’ve punch them on the face or dirtied their dresses with some wine as a way of punishment. It feels really long when he had to hold down his anger and waited until the performance ended. No one made any noise of dissatisfaction when Monsieur Kirkland ended his performance, but Francis could tell the atmosphere seemed to sour a bit at their applause.

 

When the hall was silenced again, Monsieur Kirkland delivered a speech expressing his appreciation on them. Francis looked around for a bit, only to realize that Arthur was nowhere to be seen. He had the urge to go and find the boy, so he turned and slipped off amidst the crowd, he could care later about being scolded by his father later.

 

_To you, who had fallen into a very deep sleep,_

_tonight, I will hum a lullaby of the stars._

_This is the only treasure I have received from you._

* * *

“Mon cher, are you alright?” Slowly, he approached Arthur’s shaking figure. The young man realized he was not alone and quickly wiped away his tears and put on a tough look in an attempt to conceal his sadness. “Wh-Why are you here, frog?” He managed to utter, “Aren’t you’re supposed to be at the theatre?”

 

“I could ask the same for you.” He shot back. “The stage won’t be the same when you’re not on it.”

 

At such statement, Arthur was silent. Emerald eyes stared at him while blinking tears. Francis walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have known you since you were a child. There’s no need to hide anything from me.” He then led Arthur towards the bench at the garden.

 

“I guess I got busted…” Arthur finally said when he calmed down a bit.

 

“It’s not your fault, stop blaming yourself.” Francis said. “You were doing fine during the rehearsal.”

 

“Maybe I got nervous…” Arthur muttered dryly. “Ah, so much for the nerves…”

 

Francis caught hold of Arthur’s hand, blue eyes glancing into green orbs. “Are you really alright with zhis?”

 

“Of course not, it’s not like I have a say in this…”

 

“I’m serious, cher!”

 

Arthur’s gaze fell downward. Green eyes staring into his own rippled reflection in the fountain water. At that moment, Francis thought he saw a glint appeared in Arthur’s eye as he spoke up. “I’m definitely not happy about this, Francis!”

 

“Is this some kind of joke?!” He continued to rant on. “They just treat us as if they doesn’t care about our well-being. Getting angry just because of a bad performance?! They didn’t even know we had worst!”

 

“It’s not like they could truly understand.” Francis said. “People often make judgement without seeing the clear picture.”

 

At this point, Arthur sank further in. “Am I really that bad just now?”

 

“Don’t take that into your heart, cher.” Francis comforted. “You did your best. It’s just zhat… your voice sounded a little different than during the rehearsal.”

 

“I know right?” Arthur frowned. “But it’s not like that happened suddenly, I have been taking good care of my vocal chords recently.”

 

“Cher, why don’t you just stop thinking about it?” Francis said. “For me, you have already done your best, so it’s not your fault.”

 

“But…” Arthur bit his lip, his mind kept wandering back to those moments on stage.

 

“Enough, Arthur.” Francis silenced him again. “I told you before, don’t I? There’s no need to care about what those morons talk about you, just do your best.”

 

Green eyes stared back at him. “How am I going to do when they hate me?”

 

“Listen, Arthur.” Francis added on. “Why do you choose to perform on stage?”

 

There was a moment of silence, before Arthur finally answered again. “Music has always been my passion… My desire to perform on stage so that people can listen to my mind and my heart.”

 

“Then you have it. You just have to believe in what you’re doing, there’s no need to care what people think about you.” He advised. “It’s true that people may not like your performance, but I will always be there to support you no matter what.”

 

“Francis…” Arthur was silent again, pondering on what Francis said. He seemed touched at the beginning, but he quickly put on a tough façade. “Stupid frog, I can handle things good enough, there’s no need for you to comfort me.”

 

“And zhat the lapin I knew.” Francis stifled a chuckled at Arthur’s tsundere attitude.

 

_With an awkward love that could unintentionally cause agony,_

_my feelings won’t reach you, but even if they don’t,_

_I am thinking about you intently and earnestly._

 

“You know, do you remember those days when I am still learning from my father?”

 

“ _Oui_ , you were still young and yet you were determined to learn everything from your father.”

 

“That time, my father wanted to write a song but he just don’t know how to write the lyrics. I tried to help, and in the end, it was you that helped us.”

 

“Oh? That song, it ended up in trash bin in the end, _non_?”

 

Arthur smiled at the memory. “Indeed. But that was the sign of our first friendship, isn’t it?”

 

“I agree to that. Shall we sing that song together then?” Francis asked. “Just like those times when you would practice playing the violin or singing to me.”

 

“That would be nice.”

 

_With a forlorn love that is swaying unsteadily in the wind,_

_it doesn’t matter if we’re separated afar or by each other’s side,_

_I will do my best to protect you always._

 

“Francis, don’t you think the lyrics is a bit too sentimental?” A young Arthur asked while squinting at the lyrics.

 

“Didn’t you tell me that this song is meant to be bittersweet?” Francis said. “I think we should just keep the lyrics as simple as possible and try to arrange it in the way it could convey what it should be.”

 

But in the end, the song they wrote ended up in the scrap bin. Monsieur Kirkland did his best to console them, saying that they did their best but people just don’t see the art behind their work.

 

“People should not wallow too much in their past failure.” Monsieur Kirkland told them. “Failure is just a step closer to success, a turning point that could change one’s life.”

 

“Father is right, we shouldn’t let a mere failure stop us from pursuing our dream.” Arthur told Francis later that night when the two sat by the Seine River watching over city of Paris.

 

“Glad to see you’re not sad about it.” Francis said. “In fact, we learned more about each other when we were working on that song.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more.” Arthur laughed. “Even though people had scraped our work, it is still our first work together, we should treasure it.”

 

“Shall we give it a name then?”

 

“Let’s call it ‘Lullaby of the Stars’.”

 

Eventually, they grew close after that. Arthur and Francis would spent time together whenever the Kirkland came to visit Paris. But after a few years, Monsieur Kirkland decided to move to America to expand his career. Francis was sad that Arthur was leaving but they decided to hold on the song they’ve written as a promise that they will meet again in the future.

* * *

“It’s getting late already.” Arthur commented, noting the crowds who were leaving the opera house.

 

“ _Oui_ , should we head back?” Francis asked, “I will escort you back to your room.”

 

“That’s not romantic at all, frog!” Arthur retorted. “But since you offered it so kindly, I will graciously accept it.”

 

_When I awake from my long and seemingly endless dream,_

_just so that I would become overwhelmed with tenderness._

_Gently, I grip your hand in mine,_

_while humming the lullaby of the stars._

* * *

After that performance messed up, Francis found Arthur weeping at his garden. He approached the boy and gently touched his shoulder, “ _Est-ce que tu vas bien_ (Are you alright)?”

 

“I’m not!” The boy answered back. “I can’t believe I messed up that part. Father must be so ashamed of it.”

 

“Now, now, don’t take that to your heart, it was just a small performance.” Francis tried to console him.

 

“It’s not okay!” Arthur yelled back. “People hated it, why can’t I do things right?”

 

Francis sighed before he took a seat on the grass next to Arthur. “People usually only care about the result, they don’t even look at the progress and effort one’s been through.” He said. “But I understand how much effort you have put through and I know how you had worked so hard for it, so please stop blaming yourself, you already did your best.”

 

“And when people do not appreciate your effort, it’s just shit!” Arthur swore.

 

“You don’t have to say it like that!” Francis exclaimed. “You may have made a mistake, so why not learn from it, instead of crying over the past?”

 

“And what could I learn from such failure?” Arthur scoffed.

 

“You learn from there so that you won’t repeat the same mistake again.” Francis explained.

 

“Easier said than done…”

 

“Now then, you don’t have to put what people said in your heart.” He added. “This is about you yourself and your own style. People may have judged you badly, but why not judged yourself on the bright side? You have what people don’t, so why not do it your own way?”

 

“Is that even possible?”

 

“Even for someone like me who was born in the nobility hated some of the rules and etiquette. I could obeyed what my parents want, and yet, I could just go against them and do what I like. But then again, what is the point of pleasing people when you’re not happy about it?” Francis said, his gaze turned towards the sky. “It’s true that people may not like what I did, but it’s not like I cannot live when not behaving properly.”

 

“Except that maybe you will get beaten or disowned…” Arthur added on jokingly.

 

“And what could be worse than that?” Francis retorted back. “This is your own life we’re talking about. If you cannot have it your own way, how are you going to live your life to the fullest?”

 

“You may be right…” Arthur heaved a sigh. “I have been caring about what others think that I forgot my own passion.”

 

* * *

“I had to thank you for all the trouble you had to go through just for me, frog.” Arthur said once they reached his room.

 

“ _Bienvenu_ , I will always be there for you.” Francis winked at him. “Let’s meet again sometime.” Arthur just smiled before he returned into his room. Once he ensured that Arthur has safely returned to his chambers, Francis turned away and left the corridor, unknown to him that someone was watching him from the shadows…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been taking me forever. Fanfiction was still banned in my country, and it somewhat dampened my spirit to continue writing. I still have some difficulty in using AO3 but I will manage it in the meantime so I will try to update this story as often as I could, not to let you guys disappointed.  
> The song that was featured here is called Hoshi no Komoriuta (Lullaby of the Stars).


End file.
